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Cindy opened the French doors to step out onto the little apartment's balcony. The apartment was not right on the beach as Carl had promised. However; it was an easy walk to the center of Plakias, so it was not a problem to reach whatever shopping and night life that the little village could offer. More importantly, the apartment had a spectacular view of the Mediterranean across the narrow, road that wound along this portion of the southern coast of Crete. It was all theirs and only theirs for the summer.

Thanks to Carl's parents' willingness to assume the responsibility of watching over their grandc***dren for the summer, they would enjoy a prolonged respite from the burden of parenthood for the first time in nearly two decades. This apartment would be her home and Carl's home base for the next few months while he traveled to various oil fields in Africa and the Middle East. Her husband would frequently be away for a week or two at a time, but they would also enjoy leisure time together during which they could fulfill her dream of touring Europe.

It was almost oppressively hot, but there was a breeze blowing from the blue waters of the Mediterranean that made the heat almost easy to bear. Cindy savored the sensual sensation of her dress billowing around her. The light weight fabric allowed the breeze to whisk away the sweat from her body.

The apartment was almost in the middle of the little town, so neither the road or the beach were deserted. Cindy had been surprised to see that some of the people on Crete, especially the younger men, were obviously African immigrants. Two such men were sitting at a table on a patio, right across the street one story below her, having drinks with two, rather mature, blonde haired, blue eyed, obviously nordic women.

The realization that the two African men were wearing skimpy, speedo style bathing suits provoked a blush from Cindy. Their suits conformed to the name "banana hammock" that Carl had once used. The skimpy speedo style suits displayed genitalia that were shockingly impressive.

The sight of the two African men sitting with the two European women reminded Cindy of the thought and conversation provoking, foreign movie "PARADISE: LOVE." She had been both fascinated and embarrassed by the movie when her husband took her to an obscure, specialty theatre to see it for a date night well over a year ago. Seeing that movie had inspired some exceptionally candid conversations about their past, present and future. She had confessed her unfulfilled desires and regrets about lost opportunities. Cindy was bemused by the thought that these two women were obviously getting their money's worth.

Cindy was shamed by the sensation of her panty becoming damp as her vagina began to lubricate in response to her thoughts. A respectable married woman should not be so easily aroused by fantasies inspired first by that movie and now by the sight of two younger, African men flaunting their formidable genitals. It didn't matter how handsome and well endowed the men were because she had a husband. It didn't matter that her husband had not been angry when she confessed that the movie had provoked her thoughts and desires as well as her self righteous indignation.

In spite of her shame, Cindy found herself appraising the Africans' female companions as if they were competition. The two ladies appeared to be about a decade older than she was. They were merely somewhat overweight rather than obese as the women in that movie had been. Cindy was shamed by the realization that she was perhaps a bit heavier than they were. The women actually looked rather attractive in their somewhat revealing bikinis.

Carl finished stowing their luggage then went to join his wife on the balcony. As he exited the double doors, the sight of Cindy standing in front of the sun revealed just how thin the white linen fabric of her dress was. He paused to admire the view. Not only was the silhouette of Cindy's muscular but well toned legs visible through the fabric, he could clearly see her white, bikini style panty. The fabric of the dress also clung intimately to the contours of her large breasts. Although the prospect of spending the summer in Crete had compelled Cindy to shop for a wardrobe that would be more appropriate to the weather, it was doubtful that she had realized that this dress would be so revealing. Carl had no intention of embarrassing her by bringing this to her attention.

Just as Carl was stepping out onto the patio, a gust of wind caught Cindy's dress, lifting the hem above her waist. Carl felt his penis swelling in response to the sight of her lush growth of dark blonde pubic hair that was visible through the sheer fabric of her bikini style panty. He had given her several panties of that style along with matching bras for her fortieth birthday a few years earlier. He had been elated by her willingness to wear the new lingerie that was so much sexier than the matronly styles that she had habitually favored during their c***d bearing years. He stifled a laugh as he watched his wife struggle to regain control of her errant dress.

Cindy was still contending with the hem of her dress when Carl joined her at the the balcony railing. Her distress became far more understandable when he noticed the group of two African men and their women companions sitting at the table. They were all looking up to observe Cindy's struggles with her errant dress. Carl yielded to the primal instinct to appraise Cindy's admirers as if they were potential adversaries. They were all younger than he was, leaner than he was, and far more muscular than he was. The menacing bulges in their speedo style swimsuits only exasperated his anxiety. However; the young African men were not adversaries. They were potential accomplices.

"It looks as if you've already gained some admires," Carl observed.

"It isn't funny," Cindy retorted. "The can see my panty."

"What is the big deal? You are wearing a panty so you aren't naked under your dress." Carl went on to embellish the truth, "your panty isn't much more revealing than a bikini. More importantly, we are ten-thousand miles away from home so your precious reputation is not in jeopardy."

Cindy didn't abandon her efforts to restrain the hem of her dress, but she became less frantic. The sensual sensation of the wind on her nearly naked sex felt deliciously wanton. She giggled, "it is a bit embarrassing because those men at the table are so obviously watching me."

"I guess Europe has its own problems with i*****l immigrants that are even worse than we have back in the United States." Carl abandoned the political conversation to comment on their swimming attire. "Those guys must choose to wear speedo style swimsuits just to humiliate the local men and impress the lady tourists. It is a good thing that I packed some baggy trunks so I will not be embarrassed or embarrass you."

Cindy chose to not respond to her husband's jest. She didn't want to offend him by agreeing with him. "I would be just as embarrassed if they were native Greeks rather than Africans," Cindy protested. "There is nothing wrong with being an immigrant. The Greeks were the immigrants when they conquered Crete after the Thera explosion devastated the Minoan civilization." As if to emphasize the point, she smiled mischievously as she ceased her efforts to restrain her billowing dress. She allowed the hem to rise to her waist so that it intermittently revealed her sheer panty which failed to conceal her sex to her two admirers.

Carl didn't respond to the historical reference. He didn't want to listen to another lecture on ancient history. Cindy had been studying for a minor in history as well as majoring in education when they met in college. The ancient Minoan civilization had been the focus of Cindy's final research paper during their Senior year. They might never have begun dating if her field of study hadn't caused her to take notice of Carl's guilty pleasure. He had been reading, for perhaps the dozenth time, Paul Anderson's science fiction novel "THE DANCERS OF ATLANTIS." It was a time travel story set in the ancient Minoan empire.

Cindy's decision to actually read the blatantly erotic novel along with Anderson's almost pornographic "THE AVATAR" had inspired her to allow Carl to seduce her into surrendering her precious virginity to him. His guilt about exploiting the opportunity combined with her anxiety about a pregnancy possibly resulting from his failure to wear a condom and his failure to pull out had compelled him to propose to her. Fortunately; Cindy hadn't gotten pregnant. She hadn't gotten pregnant during their prolonged engagement and newlywed years in spite of their frequent reliance on the pull and pray method rather than condoms.

"At least these guys seem to be somewhat employed servicing their sugar mommas," Carl observed.

Cindy blushed with embarrassment. "It doesn't seem quite so desperate and sordid as it did in the movie."

"No. It isn't," Carl agreed. "These ladies didn't wait until they became so old and so fat before allowing themselves to live out their fantasies."

Cindy giggled, "if the women weren't so obviously two or three decades older than their escorts, it would seem perfectly normal."

Somewhat embarrassed by the subject and fearful of offending his wife by being unsubtle Carl asked, "now that you are finally here in Crete, do you want to go to the beach or go shopping?"

"I think that I will show mercy to you by electing to go to the beach," Cindy answered. "I will have plenty of time to shop while you are away touring the oil fields of Libya." Cindy turned her attention to the foursome at the table. The two women were older than she was, yet they had the confidence to wear bikinis. While their escorts were no doubt well compensated, they didn't seem to find their mature, somewhat zoftig bodies repulsive. This realization inspired her to reconsider her own choice in beach attire. "We can go to the beach, but we need to stop along the way to shop for perhaps only two items."

Carl was amazed as he watched Cindy step back from the wrought iron railing and into their room, but allow the double doors to remain open as she casually lifted her dress over her head. Her bra was no less revealing than her panty. Her nipples and large, dark aureolas were barely concealed by the thin fabric. Carl noticed that her labia as well as her pubic hair was revealed by the thin fabric of her panty. While she was concealed from people on the patio across the street and the beach, she was quite visible to whoever might be on the various boats floating no more than fifty yards off shore. Obviously; her confidence that her skimpy bra and panty would not reveal to much to anyone who might be viewing her through the open doors from a distance allowed her to indulge in this not quite private, near nudity.

Carl was amazed and elated that his wife was being so brazen. He understood that she was confident that no one could see too much. However; her unexpected willingness to finally relax her inhibitions pleased him. He watched as she moved closer to the door to savor the sensation of the ocean breeze on her nearly naked body.

Cindy retreated to the back of the room to strip out of her panty and bra. However; the need to unpack her bikini compelled her to return to their luggage which Carl had laid out on the table near the door. She rationalized that while she would be visible to people on the beach, they wouldn't actually take notice of her.

Carl was not quite as shy about stripping off his own clothes. He wanted to set an example for Cindy that would encourage the relaxation of her inhibitions that he had been hoping for. He had selected this little village on the island of Crete as their home base for the summer because Cindy had always been fascinated by the Minoan civilization. However; the fact that it was normal for women to go topless on the beaches of Crete had inspired hopes that Cindy might relax her inhibitions enough to consider going topless on the beach herself.

Carl smiled as he imagined his wife accidentally discovering the nude beaches only a few hundred yards to the East of the little town. It was highly improbable that this discovery could occur by chance. An outcropping of rugged cliffs separated those nude beaches from Plakias.

After putting on his suit then using the toilet, Carl emerged from the bathroom to discover that Cindy was pulling the top of her tankini over her head. He frowned disapprovingly. "I was hoping that now that you are finally in Crete, you might relax enough to wear a bikini, or even go topless." Remembering a favorite detail from "THE DANCERS OF ATLANTIS", Carl coaxed her with the comment, "the Minoan women never covered their breasts."

"Are you certain that you want other men admiring your wife's naked breasts?"

"Yes. I am," Carl assured her.

Cindy looked down to appraise herself critically. The fact that the two gigolos had been appraising her inspired her to test her husband's confidence. "I am not so certain that other men, particularly those African studs, would be admiring this old lady's breasts if they could see them naked. Nursing our babies has made them flabby and saggy."

Carl assured his wife, "I am certain that other men would enjoy seeing your breasts naked as much as I do." He said nothing more as he watched his wife put on her tankini bottoms. He remained silent as she applied sunscreen to her exposed skin. She then packed towels, the sunscreen, their room keys and a few hundred Euros in cash into her beach bag.

Carl followed as Cindy as she led the way into town. When they first arrived, he had noticed her noticing the little shop that had a limited selection of beach wear on display. She led the way directly to the shop. Rather than select a bikini, she selected a speedo style, men's swimsuit. "If you want me to buy a bikini to wear on the beach, you have to wear one of these."

Carl was reluctant to even try on the suit. He knew that he would be unimpressive, and not just compared to the two the Africans. However; the prospect of persuading his wife to wear a bikini on the beach gave him the courage to duck into the changing room to try it on. The speedo was worse than he had feared. His unimpressive genitalia was the only thing that allowed the speedo style suit to be humiliatingly revealing without being indecent. However; he realized that the humiliation might serve his ultimate purpose by encouraging Cindy's discontent.

Carl was acutely aware of his near nudity as he waited for Cindy to select a bikini then duck into the changing room. When she emerged, he was pleased. The bikini she had selected had not been the skimpiest bikini on the rack. It was a classic style from a bygone decade. The straps of the top even went over her shoulders rather than around her neck. The bottoms rode low on her wide hips but they covered most of her well rounded butt. Carl noticed that the bottoms were fastened with knots on each side which had saved Cindy the hassle and embarrassment of trying to find a suit that would fit her wide hips. He noticed that she hadn't had an opportunity to trim her pubic hair to conform to this skimpier swimsuit. A few errant tufts protruded over the top and sides of the fabric triangle.

Cindy asked, "how do I look?"

Carl was not unrealistic. The bikini revealed the evidence that Cindy was no longer a young woman. Her belly was soft and gently rounded rather than flat and firm. The stretch marks from repeated pregnancies were evident. The bikini top gave her breasts needed support, but the cups were small enough to reveal that she needed support. "You look fantastic," Carl answered enthusiastically and honestly.

Cindy paid for their purchases and stuffed her tankini and Carl's trunks into her beach bag. Her husband followed eagerly as she led the way to the beach. As they walked along, she noticed the two, young, African men and their sugar mammas who they had earlier noticed sitting at the table by their apartment were now on the beach. The two women were now topless.

"It would appear that going topless on the beach is part of the ritual for spawning with African men," Carl observed.

"Are you really sure you want me to go topless on the beach? Those African men will suspect that I am a potential sugar momma if I bare my breasts, especially when I am alone while you are away at the oil fields."

"I'm certain that the African men will hope that you are a potential sugar momma even if you don't bare your breasts. They will be hitting on you anyway, so there is no reason to not go topless."

Cindy could not refute her husband's unexpectedly libertine logic. She felt a disturbing fluttering in her lower belly as she considered the implications.

Cindy selected a spot then busied herself unpacking her beach bag, applying sunscreen to the newly exposed areas of her body, then spreading the towels out on the hot sand. She was bemused to see Carl's surprise when he noticed that she had packed two splits of champaign. She normally didn't allow herself to drink much. He sat on his towel next to hers and took his bottle so they could toast. "To Crete," she said as she gently clicked her bottle against his.

After finishing her small bottle of champaign, Cindy slipped the straps of her bikini tops off of her shoulders then laid back on her towel. She applied more sunscreen as she adjusted the now loose fabric of her bikini cups to expose as much of her breast flesh as possible to the sun while keeping her nipples and large, dark aureolas concealed.

The sight of his wife flirting with her near nudity compelled Carl to roll over onto his stomach to conceal his erection. He ignored Cindy's bemused giggle. He pretended to make small talk as he admired her partially exposed breasts. He said nothing when he noticed the fabric of the cups slipping to partially expose her aureolas.

After about an hour, Cindy rolled over onto her stomach. Carl noticed that she carelessly allowed her top to slip so that her nipples were briefly exposed before pressing her breasts against her towel. He didn't risk embarrassing her into being more modest by saying anything. After settling onto her towel, Cindy yielded to the temptation to push her bikini bottoms down to expose more of her butt cheeks. She rationalized that her bikini didn't completely cover her butt anyway and she had noticed that many of the women were wearing thong style swimsuits that left their butts completely exposed. After fumbling around to position the garments so it wouldn't feel uncomfortable and awkward, she finally pulled the strings to untie the bow knots so that the back of the suit could drop between her thighs. She would have to be careful when she got up.

Carl eagerly obliged when Cindy asked him to apply sunscreen to her back. He started with the backs of her legs and thighs, then moved up to her butt. She giggled in response to his less than clinical technique, but she didn't complain. She didn't want her butt burnt.

Carl decided to become a bit bolder as he applied sunscreen to Cindy's back. He mischievously unsnapped the clasp of the back band. His wife protested, but she calmed down when he reminded her that her breasts would not be exposed as long as she remained on her stomach. She even slipped the straps off of her shoulders so that she would have no tan lines on her back.

Carl was nodding off when the same foursome who had been sitting at the table below the balcony of their apartment sauntered past. Carl noticed Cindy rising up on her elbows to watch the group. He noticed that she carelessly raised her body high enough that her nipples were no longer concealed by her towel. He noticed that the two African men were taking notice of her apparent carelessness. The brief interaction provoked a renewed stirring in his groin.

Cindy soon announced that she was hungry. Carl eagerly agreed that it was well past time for dinner. He watched as Cindy fumbled to fasten her bikini top. Her efforts to preserve her modesty were not entirely successful, but this no longer disturbed her. Her attempts to retrieve her bikini bottom to retie it while she remained on her stomach failed. She finally rolled over and sat up so that she would not be hampered by her awkward position.. She seemed to be either unaware or unconcerned that the few men who were nearby were being treated to a brief glimpse of her naked sex.

As Cindy packed their things, she realized that she was neglecting something important. They were not only on Crete, they were on the shores of the Mediterranean. The Mediterranean was the cradle of civilization. While the island of Crete was hallowed ground, the Mediterranean was hallowed waters. She needed to go for a swim before she could go to dinner.

Carl watched as his wife bounded down the beach to the water. Although she was a strong swimmer, he was surprised that she was so undaunted by the surf. He joined her with somewhat less enthusiasm.

As they finally emerged from the water, Carl noticed that while Cindy's bikini was conservatively cut, the seemingly demure fabric didn't remain completely opaque when wet. Suspicion compelled Carl to glance down at his speedo. The fabric of his own suit had also become somewhat translucent.

Cindy noticed her husband inspecting himself. She was shocked but bemused to see that his penis, scrotum and pubic hair were very discernible through the damp fabric. She suddenly realized that the fabric of her bikini might have been similarly transformed. She blushed with embarrassment when a quick glance confirmed her suspicion.

"I guess it is too late to worry about it," Carl suggested. "I doubt that the local shops would sell these suits if the local authorities considered them to risque to wear in public."

Cindy reluctantly agreed with Carl's reasoning. She picked up her beach bag to lead the way back to their apartment. The beach had showers which could be used to rinse away the sand and salt water. Cindy was momentarily reluctant to use them because rewetting her bikini would only ensure that the fabric would remain translucent. However; the lecture that the property manager had given them about being careful to keep salt and sand out of the apartment compelled her to use the shower. She found herself becoming aroused when a quick glance confirmed that her nipples, aureolas and pubic hair were very evident through the soaked fabric. She considered getting a towel out of her bag to cover herself with then rejected the idea. Carl followed her example.

There were a number of small restaurants that fronted the far side of the road along the beach. Although there were signs advising women that they couldn't be topless, beach wear was obviously permitted. Their dinner was simple, uncomplicated local fare that was delicious.

As Carl nervously walked Cindy back to their apartment, he found himself hoping that their evening might culminate with lovemaking. It had been too long, again. Given the layovers and plane changes, they had been traveling for two days. They had been far to exhausted to make love during their night in Athens. The day before their flight had been consumed by last minute preparations. Carl had been away on business for most of the previous two weeks. He was not reassured by these extenuating circumstances. It had become far to normal in recent years for them to make love only once or twice per month.

Carl was not disappointed. Cindy was definitely in the mood. She was stripping off her bikini bottoms before he could even close the door behind them. He had no doubt that it had been the sun and the Mediterranean sea rather than the company of her husband that had been an aphrodisiac to her. She responded eagerly to the ministrations of his lips and tongue. Unfortunately; when Carl positioned himself between her thighs she reached down to fend off his penis as she reminded him, "you need to put a condom on."

"I didn't pack any condoms. I assumed that you would," Carl responded with less than perfect honesty. "The trusty pull and pray method has failed us only once." This assertion was debatable. They had been using a combination of condoms and withdrawal in combination with Cindy's informal and imprecise version of the rhythm method when they began their family a bit sooner than expected. Fortunately; she had been just as averse to resuming the use of condoms as he was, so they had agreed that her first pregnancy had been the result of a condom leaking or slipping off. When Cindy failed to relent Carl pleaded, "I want you to enjoy this as much as I do."

Cindy contemplated her options. She was confident that Carl would not be upset if she insisted on pleasuring him by embracing his penis in her cleavage. He would be elated if she used her mouth. However; she wanted to get laid. The prospect of not having a sheath of latex between them only inflamed her desire to have his penis inside her. While using a condom had never been certain to deny her an orgasm, it had always been easier to climax without one. She also had confidence in Carl's willingness and ability to restrain himself. The knowledge that they were flirting with the risk of pregnancy by relying on the withdrawal method had always enhanced her pleasure during her c***d bearing years.

Cindy considered her options. She could only vaguely recall when she had last menstruated, but she was confident that it had been about three weeks earlier. She was probably late enough in her cycle that she should be safe. Her increasingly irregular cycle attested to the fact that at her age, she was probably no longer as fertile as she used to be anyway.

Carl was elated to feel Cindy's hand guiding his naked penis to her vagina. He could count on one hand the number of occasions when she had allowed his penis inside her naked during the years since she had weaned their youngest. Unfortunately; the fact that it had been so long since they had made love combined with the no longer familiar pleasure of barebacking made it difficult for Carl to restrain himself. Cindy was just beginning to build to her second orgasm of the evening when he was compelled to withdraw.

Cindy moaned with frustration when she felt Carl's penis withdrawing from her vagina. Her sexual frustration became alarm when she felt the first, few, most potent spurts of Carl's semen spilling onto her lower belly. She frantically reached down to check. While Carl's seed was soaking the upper portion of her pubic hair, it seemed that none had gotten into her vagina.

"Sorry," Carl pleaded. "It has been too long. I am a bit out of practice. I will be more careful next time," he assured her with hopeful presumption.

"We can buy some condoms tomorrow," Cindy insisted somewhat angrily. Carl's claim that he was out of practice was less than honest. In recent years she had been usually insisting that he withdraw when he began ejaculating as an added precaution to enhance the effectiveness of condoms. She got out of bed and went to the bathroom to rinse her husband's semen from her vagina. The time allowed her mild anger to be forgotten. Carl was pleased to see Cindy not bothering to unpack her nightgown before rejoining him in bed. It had been years since she had slept nude.

The next morning found Carl and Cindy sleeping in, enjoying a leisurely breakfast at a nearby cafe, then exploring the shopping that Plakias had to offer. Cindy found a pharmacy that should have condoms. She was disappointed to see that the small shelf devoted to contraceptives was depleted. The only condoms remaining were the extra large style.

"Those would be to large to fit me," Carl volunteered.

Cindy suspected that Carl's humility was motivated by a desire to have sex unprotected again. However; he was also correct. Cindy's Greek was far from fluent, so she struggled to read the tags on the empty shelves. The pharmacy normally didn't stock any other contraceptives. There were no spermicides. There was no sponge. There was nothing.

The pharmacist proudly informed Cindy that while Greeks were not ignorant, most married women preferred to rely on traditional methods. He had noticed that only a minority of young couples seemed to buy condoms and they didn't buy as many as one should expect. The fact that Greeks had so few babies was a testament to the effectiveness of traditional methods. Cindy was far to polite to suggest that this recklessness might explain why Greeks committed so many abortions. The pharmacist was expecting his restock order to arrive in about a week, Cindy resigned herself to having to rely on Carl's ability to restrain himself. He would be off to the oil fields in two days anyway.

The rest of the shopping was mercifully brief, but it was well after noon before they returned to the beach. Cindy once again spent an hour sunning herself, playing the peekaboo game with her bikini as she laid on her stomach. Carl tried to not be to obvious about watching as she rolled over and sat up to retie her bikini bottoms. He held his breath as she reached for the suntan lotion rather than her bikini top.

Cindy could feel her unrestrained breasts swaying as she applied a fresh dose of sunscreen to her legs, arms, shoulders and belly. She reconsidered her decision to not put her bikini top on. Then she reminded herself that her nudity would be relatively unobtrusive as she laid on her back to sun herself. She wouldn't be strutting around on the beach. She hesitated to touch herself so intimately in public, but she had already witnessed other women casually rubbing sunscreen onto their naked breasts. She found the experience liberating, strangely exhilarating and even arousing.

Cindy's expectation that no one would really take notice her naked breasts turned out to be unrealistic. Many people walked past them. Some paused ostensibly to look at the ocean. Some found an excuse to have a conversation with Carl. One particularly bold, African immigrant even flirted with Cindy, obviously unconcerned by her husband's presence! Her searches on the Internet had confirmed that some of the women who indulged in sex tourism were married rather than single, and that their husbands encouraged them.

Carl's wish that his wife might find the courage to go topless was finally realized fully when she decided to go swimming. She left her top on her towel as she sprinted to the water. Carl wondered if she realized that her haste was causing her big breasts to bounce and sway enticingly. He noticed that he was not the only man who was fascinated by the sight. The knowledge that Cindy's new admirers were becoming jealous as they frolicked in the surf together enhanced his pleasure.

Carl was elated when Cindy didn't put her bikini top back on before gathering up their things. She waited until after she had used one of the showers at the edge of the sand before putting her top back on for the short walk to their apartment. Given Carls inflamed desire for his wife, it was fortunate that she suggested that sex should come before dinner. She was even more responsive to his tongue. Even better, she was not reluctant to trust Carl to restrain himself. He honored her by exercising more restraint. He succeeded in bringing her to another orgasm before he withdrew to spill his seed onto her belly and breasts while avoiding her pubic hair.

As Carl waited for Cindy to take a quick shower, he tried to remember the last occasion when they had made love two nights in a row. He could not recall doing so during the years since the birth of their youngest.

Carl was elated to see Cindy putting on a bra but no panty before she slipped into a dress. "It has been years since you were willing to go commando for me."

Cindy felt a brief pang of guilt as she wondered if her husband was gently chastising her for her evolving habit of going commando for Wives Night Out. She had noticed him noticing whenever she had left a garter belt and stockings d****d over a towel bar. "I figure that after that performance, you deserve a reward." She was relieved when he said nothing more that might have been perceived as veiled anger.

As they walked into town, Cindy found herself once again contemplating why Carl encouraged her to flaunt rather than conceal her body. He was certainly not unusual. Most of her friends admitted that their own husbands were always trying to coax them into dressing more provocatively than they were really comfortable with. Possessive pride was obviously one motivating factor. Having his wife dress up to provoke attention was perhaps no different for a husband than washing and waxing his car to show it off. However; she had long since noticed that vicarious arousal was also involved. Her husband found her more attractive whenever he noticed other men taking notice of her.

The dinner was more sophisticated than the night before. They had cocktails and shared a bottle of wine as they lingered over their late meal. Carl even took Cindy dancing at a bar that had an excellent sound system rather than a live band. Unfortunately; he became fatigued after dancing only one set.

Fortunately; a younger local man, an ethnic Greek rather than an African immigrant, silently asked Cindy to dance. She was pleased but not really surprised when Carl encouraged her to accept. The Greek obviously didn't speak English, but he knew how to dance to the fast paced songs as well as they slow songs. Cindy was acutely aware of the sensation of her big breasts pressing against his muscular chest when he held her close. She also noticed the sensation of his swelling penis pressing against her belly. It was a sensation that she had experienced many times before, but not just with her husband. Aside from the obligatory slow dances with Carl's bosses at company functions, there had been somewhat illicit dances with strangers that she had met during occasional Wives Night Out.

Cindy was acutely aware that she was not wearing a panty under her dress and that the hem only came to mid thigh. The knowledge that her sex was so naked and vulnerable to the penis that was rubbing against her belly never failed to provoke her imagination. This was why she often went commando on Wives Night Out. She found herself yielding to the temptation to rub herself seductively against the male member as she struggled to make small talk in Greek while they danced so that she could appraise it more thoroughly. She was not surprised that he seemed to be an inch or two longer than her husband and thicker. Most men that she had danced with over the years were.

The hands that had been gallantly positioned at Cindy's shoulder and waist drifted to her hips. When she didn't protest, the hands drifted to her butt. This too was not a new sensation. Carl's bosses always took such liberties with her. Carl had never made a scene about it. The guys that she had danced with during Wives Night Out were usually even more brazen, but Carl must be unaware of these encounters. However; this was different because her husband was sitting close by, perhaps watching, and the guy she was dancing with was not a boss whom he must defer to. A furtive, nervous glance at Carl confirmed that he was watching, but he offered no protest.

When the song ended, Cindy asked to return to her husband. The fact that the Greek was disappointed flattered her ego, but she was pleased that he graciously accepted her request. Unfortunately; Carl had just ordered another drink for himself as well as for her. It would be impolite for her to insist that they leave without finishing their drinks.

Their drinks were almost finished when Cindy felt a massive, dark presence looming over her. "May I have the pleasure of a dance with your wife?" The vocabulary and diction were flawless, and the accent was British, but there was a resonance to the deep baritone that was obviously African. Cindy looked up at the dark presence then she looked at her husband. A smile and a nod silently encouraged her. She felt a burning desire to get laid again, but she took the hand of the African as she rose from her chair so that he could take her in his arms.

The African was just as good a dancer as the Greek, but he was bolder. His arousal was profoundly evident as he danced a foot away from her. He was obviously even better endowed than the Greek. When the music slowed, the African's hands went directly to Cindy's butt as he held her close. Unlike the Greek, his shirt was unbuttoned to fully expose his muscular chest. Only the filmy fabric of her bra and the thin linen of her dress separated her breasts from his chest. Even more shocking and arousing was the realization that while the African was much taller than she was, his swollen penis was so long that she could feel the glans rubbing against her pubic mound through his trousers and her dress.

When the song ended, Cindy politely insisted on returning to her husband. She placated her disappointed dance partner by suggesting that they might be able to dance together again the next time they met.

Cindy was desperate to make love when they got back to their apartment. She ached to feel Carl's tongue and penis in her vagina again. However; her guilt about her wanton behavior compelled her to pleasure him first.

Carl was elated to feel Cindy's mouth enveloping his penis. Fellatio was not taboo to his wife, but she was seldom so enthusiastic. Even more unusual was her obvious intention to bring him to orgasm by sucking on his penis. He ceased his efforts to restrain himself. After two decades of marriage, Cindy knew exactly when to pull away so that his semen spilled onto bare breasts.

Cindy was elated that Carl was as always so eager to pleasure her with his talented tongue. He was not merely satisfied to give her an orgasm, he insisted on bringing her to climax repeatedly. Unfortunately; when he positioned himself between her thighs, his erection wilted. Her attempts to revive him were futile. They agreed that he was fatigued, he hadn't had time to recuperate from her performing fellatio on him so soon after their lovemaking before dinner, and of course he had drank a bit too much. However; at his age he was not as virile as he once was.

Carl was awakened by his alarm clock before dawn. His desire for his wife was motivated as much by a need to redeem himself as lust. He didn't have much time before he would need to catch a taxi to the airport in Herklion. He was not as determined to pleasure his wife. Once his tongue had confirmed that her vagina was lubricating, he entered her. Unfortunately; her drowsiness combined with the limited foreplay prevented him from bringing her to orgasm before their time ran out. She encouraged him to just enjoy himself. It was far from the first time that she had granted him a quickie. Her gratitude for his remembering to pull out defused her resentment.

The sun was high in the sky and it was getting hot when Cindy reawakened. She laid in bed for a few minutes contemplating their farewell lovemaking. It had been unsatisfying and frustrating. Her husband had been too determined to confirm his virility to pleasure her. If not for their previous lovemakings, she would have resented Carl's selfishness.

Cindy's stomach growled menacingly, forcing her out of bed to search for food. She forced herself to shower, dry herself, then wrapped herself in a towel to contemplate what she should do about breakfast. She checked the cupboards and the small refrigerator. There were pots and pans for cooking as well as cups, plates and utensils for eating, but nothing to eat. She would take herself out for breakfast.

After a moment of vacillation, Cindy decided to wear the same dress she had been wearing when they first arrived in Plakias. She had hung it up out on the balcony to dry after running it through the apartment's amazingly compact washing machine. Walking out onto the balcony with only a towel wrapped around her felt deliciously wanton even if the towel really was not that revealing. She allowed herself to linger, standing at the railing to once again savor the view of the Mediterranean.

After a quick search Cindy discovered where her bra had landed after being carelessly cast aside during last night's lovemaking. She blushed when she realized that it was stained with Carl's semen. She hand washed the bra in the sink, then hung it out to dry.

Cindy was about to get another bra from her luggage when her stomach growled ominously. She needed to stop stalling and eat. She quickly slipped into her dress without a bra or panty. She checked herself in the mirror. The fabric failed to completely obscure her nipples and large dark aureolas, but hunger allowed her to convince herself that it wasn't really indecent. The dress made it obvious that without support, her breasts rode low on her chest to reveal her age. She had what Carl had once referred to as the "National Geographic" look. She decided that she was to hungry to care. After baring her breasts for all to see at the beach yesterday, her standards of modesty had become more flexible.

Cindy found a cafe near the apartment where she could dine on the patio. The young waiter was an African immigrant rather than Greek. He spoke flawless English with a British accent. He was more than attentive. He was politely flirtatious. His obviously not so innocent attentions were a boost to her ego. A warm breeze provoked the realization that the tastefully low cut neckline of her dress became far more revealing to anyone standing above and beside her whenever she leaned forward to take a bite. Since she wasn't wearing a bra to obscure her breasts, the waiter was being treated to perhaps more than a glimpse of her breasts. Her embarrassment was brief. She had after all been briefly topless on the beach yesterday.

After breakfast, Cindy went shopping. There was little point in recreational shopping. She had thoroughly explored the few shops in town the previous day. Most of the trinkets that she might have purchased as gifts had obviously been manufactured in Asia rather than in Greece.

Cindy shopped for the basics at the grocery store. Her selection was far from comprehensive, but it was adequate to ensure that she would not starve if she didn't eat out at restaurants while Carl was gone.

The question of what to do the rest of the day was simple. While Cindy was eager to explore, she had all summer. More importantly; she was still fatigued and jet lagged from the flight over. Their international flight out of New York had been forced to turn back by mechanical problems. The passengers had spent what had seemed like a week waiting around all night in an airport that was otherwise deserted while they waited for the mechanics to repair their jet. Carl had made disparaging comments about Airbus products and had been obviously relieved when the airline brought in a Boeing jet to finish the it flight. A day of doing nothing aside from relaxing on the beach with a good book was exactly what she needed.

Although Carl was gone, Cindy's tan lines would reveal if the had worn her one piece suit rather than her new bikini on the beach. She was not certain that he would be pleased if she wore the bikini when he was not around, yet she decided to wear it.

After a brief walk to the beach, Cindy laid claim to one of the umbrellas with lounge chairs that had been laid out. However; she decided to begin the afternoon laying on her stomach in the sun to tan her back. She quickly realized that not having her husband around to apply sunscreen to her back was a problem. She considered returning to the apartment to change into her one price suit. Fortunately; one of the African immigrants who was so prevalent was working a concession stand on the beach noticed her plight and offered his assistance. He too spoke flawless English with a British accent. His intentions were obviously not entirely honorable. Cindy vacillated for a moment before accepting. She reasoned that the need to serve his customers would ensure that the situation would not get too awkward.

Cindy realized that she might be wrong when she felt the African immigrant unhooking the clasp of her bikini top. She resisted the urge to protest his presumption. However; she reasoned that it was really no big deal. Her husband had unhooked her bikini top so she could fully tan her back yesterday.

The large hands applied sunscreen to not only Cindy's back but her exposed flanks. As she luxuriated in the sensual pleasure, she made the mistake of raising herself up on her elbows. The African interpreted this as an invitation to apply sunscreen to her exposed breasts. Panicked by the unexpectedly intimate contact, Cindy dropped back down on the towel. Her new friend understood the hint and accepted it without protest.

The African's gracious acceptance of the limitations that Cindy imposed emboldened her. She reached down to untie one of the knots on her bikini bottoms. The African immigrant eagerly accepted her guidance by uniting the other knot. Rather than simply push the back of her bikini bottom down to expose her butt, the immigrant gently pulled it out from under her then tossed it over to her beach bag under the umbrella a few feet away. Rather than protest, Cindy giggled as she rose up on her elbows, briefly exposing her breasts again as she pulled her top from under her body to toss it over to her beach bag.

The African was reasonably businesslike as he applied sunscreen to Cindy's butt. He was more thorough about applying sunscreen to her butt than he really needed to be, but his tentative groping between her cheeks didn't quite reach her sex. Cindy was grateful because she would be embarrassed if he discovered that her sex was becoming moist in response to the sensual pleasure.

As a graceful ploy to ensure that the application of sunscreen didn't get completely out of hand, Cindy asked the African to sell her a beer. She was somewhat ashamed of herself for drinking alone much less so early in the afternoon, but she rationalized that it was five o'clock somewhere. The African was obviously not disappointed with the generous tip. Cindy was suddenly shamed by the realization that she had just paid a man to grope her!

Cindy was grateful when two groups of people descended on the beach. There were three couples and a gaggle of older, unaccompanied women. All of the women took their tops off to expose their breasts. The African became busy selling drinks and snacks to the newcomers. The group of single women were particularly demanding. Their intentions and expectations were obvious. The African was obviously eager to accommodate them. Cindy felt a momentary pang of jealousy, then chastised herself for being presumptuous. She reasoned that unlike the gaggle of women, she had a husband. Then she noticed that all but two of the unaccompanied women were wearing rings.

Cindy soon realized that she needed to raise herself up on her elbows, exposing her breasts, whenever she wanted to have a sip of her beer. After a bit of hesitation, she decided that it was not a big deal.

When Cindy was content that her back had gotten enough sun, she realized that she was faced with another dilemma. Both the top and bottoms of her bikini had been tossed to her beach bag under the umbrella a few feet away. While this was a topless beach, it was not a nude beach. She was not dozens of yards away from other people as she had been the day before when she briefly exposed her sex to put her bottoms on. After considering her problem, she decided that it would be reasonably discrete for her to crawl the few feet on her hands and knees. Keeping her sex concealed while she tied the knot on her bottoms turned out to be impossible. Fortunately; while everyone nearby including the African vender seemed to have noticed, no one objected.

After briefly exposing her sex, the prospect of sunbathing topless did not seem to be at all risqué. Cindy put her top in her beach bag then applied more sunscreen. She felt self conscious about applying the lotion to the pale flesh of her breasts while so many people were near by, including the African vender who was obviously watching, but no one complained. She moved a chair into the sun and sat down, then applied another dose of tanning lotion to her big breasts to ensure that she would not get burned.

The African vender appeared at Cindy's side to offer her another drink while she was still applying lotion to her breasts. She noticed that he had an obvious and very impressive bulge in his shorts. The realization that he had become so aroused by her performance was embarrassing but also flattering. She continued to massage the lotion into her breasts as she considered her options. It was tempting to treat herself to another of the local beers, but it was still early in the day and she was a light weight. She ordered a fruit juice cocktail.

When the African brought her the drink, he still had a prominent bulge in his shorts. Cindy allowed herself to appraise him. While she had been a virgin when she started dating Carl, she had not been a complete neophyte. She had indulged in some rather heavy petting with quite a few other guys who she had dated. One of them had even been a black football player who she had been introduced to at an orientation party at the beginning of her Freshman year. The allure of what she had been raised to consider forbidden fruit combined with the confidence that her parents would never know had encouraged her to accept when he asked her out on a date. His determination to seduce her had compelled her to learn how to perform oral sex to preserve her virginity from his ominously large, ebony penis that she was certain would be not only painful but might injure her.

When Carl began courting Cindy, she had noticed that he was not as well endowed as her previous paramours, especially the black guy. As a naive virgin, she had been convinced that size doesn't matter. Now almost twenty years, three c***dren and a miscarriage later, she regretted her determination to preserve her virginity for the man that she intended to marry. She was jealous of all of her friends who had exploited the freedom to explore. Although she had convinced herself that she should accept it, she had begun to resent her husband's failure to remain a virgin for her. Admiring the bulge in the African's shorts provoked images of what his penis would look like naked and fantasies of having it inside her.

Cindy allowed herself to have another beer then two cocktails during her long afternoon at the beach. On a whim, Cindy took a selfey of herself posing still topless with the African vender then texted it to her husband. She even allowed the African to take a few photos of her with his own phone. She immediately regretted it. What if the African was indiscrete with the topless photos of her? Even worse, what if her husband discovered them?

Carl's texted reply arrived about an hour later. He was amazingly reassuring and encouraging. "GLAD TO SEE YOUR NOT BEING A PRUDE AND HAVING FUN. IF YOU DO ANYTHING THAT YOU THINK THAT YOU SHOULDN'T, I HOPE YOU SEND ME THE PHOTOS TO PROVE IT, LOL!!"

The reply from her husband confused Cindy. She needed time away from the distractions of other people to think. Her conversations with the vendor and the other tourists gave her the confidence to leave her things while she went for a long walk on the beach and a swim in the ocean as a distraction. She didn't put her top on. The sensation of the sun on her breasts as they bounced while she walked was exhilarating and arousing.

Cindy quickly discovered that the few hundred yards of sandy beach that was so hospitable was bracketed by formidable cliffs. She could not escape the crowd to sort out her turmoil. She sought solace in the water.

As Cindy was swimming in the surf, she was overwhelmed by an unexpectedly powerful wave. She was still struggling to regain her balance when she felt powerful hands rescuing her from her distress. She looked down to see two, very large, mahogany hands grasping her breasts. She might have been offended if those mahogany hands hadn't been rescuing her. She felt a formidably large penis swelling as it pressed against her butt. When she turned around to thank her rescuer, she felt those mahogany hands drifting down her back to grasp her butt, pulling her closer and upwards so that her sex was pressed against the penis which was escaping from the inadequate confines of a speedo.

It was obvious that this rescue was about to morph into a seduction. The sensation of that magnificent penis probing and pushing aside the fabric that covered Cindy's sex provoked both arousal and panic. She protested that she was a married woman and that she needed to return to her husband before he began to worry. The hands and the penis relented and released her. Cindy ran away back to her things, fleeing temptation.

Thanks to repeated and generous doses of sunscreen combined with the beach umbrella that she had claimed, Cindy got a good start on a tan without getting burned. Her determination to avoid another chance encounter that could present her with temptation dissuaded her from leaving the safety of her little plot of beach. She was relieved that the African vendor had shifted his attentions to one of the unaccompanied women. She noticed that his new interest didn't allow her wedding rings to dissuade her.

When the sun approached the horizon, Cindy's stomach reminded her that she had skipped lunch and that it was past dinner time. After hours of blatant flirting, the African vendor had left in the company of the woman whom he had been wooing. It was all to easy to imagine what they were now doing. Cindy could not condemn the woman for her infidelity. Only the grace of God had presented her from succumbing to the same temptation. Even worse, she was jealous and resentful because the other woman had the courage to exploit the opportunity that she had allowed to pass her by.

After taking a quick rinse under a shower, she decided to eat at a little cantina that was actually on the beach. Cindy was about to retrieve her bikini top from her beach bag when she noticed that a few of the women who were sitting at tables or at the bar were still topless. The idea of eating dinner alfresco and half naked appealed to her.

Cindy had claimed the last available table when an African that she had noticed talking to her vender appeared to ask her if he could sit with her. She didn't object. All of the other tables as well as the bar were occupied. The Greek waiter who served them obviously presumed that they were a couple and disapproved, but he still served them. This African immigrant had a name that Cindy was unable to pronounce properly or even remember. She didn't know if he was Christian, Muslim or Animist, but he eagerly shared a bottle of wine with her. The African had a compelling story of an impoverished upbringing in the Sudan and his parents who sacrificed so much to send him to a private school where he was taught English. His tale of crossing the Sahara dessert to reach the coast of Libya during the Arab Spring revolution was epic. His journey had culminated with a swamped boat overflowing with refugees foundering on a beach on the southern coast of Crete.

When the check arrived, it was only one check and the disapproving waiter set it in front of Cindy. He obviously presumed that Cindy was the African's sugar mama. The African didn't offer to pay the bill or even split it with her. Cindy knew that she should be offended, but she wasn't. The idea that a woman should be the one paying for a man's company was somehow empowering. The African's story had been worth the price of a meal, so she paid without complaint.

As they got up from the table, the African offered to walk Cindy home. It was a seemingly innocent scenario fraught with possibilities. Cindy found herself glancing down at his groin. The respectable bulge that was visible through the thin linen of his pants was enticing. A sudden stirring in her loins warned Cindy that if she allowed the African to walk her home, it would culminate in seduction. The only question was if the African would be seducing Cindy or Cindy would be seducing the African. Perhaps they would each be both be the seducer and the seduced? Cindy was about to accept when a glint of light from the setting sun off of the diamond in her wedding ring reminded her that she was a married woman. She politely and reluctantly declined the offer. She explained that her husband would no doubt appreciate him looking out for her but that it wasn't quite dark yet and that her apartment was barely a block away. She then added unthinkingly that perhaps he could walk her home some other evening as she hugged him close to give him a deep, promising kiss.

Shamed by her flirtation with infidelity, Cindy rushed back to the apartment. She didn't even pause to put her bikini top on, preferring to just just d**** a towel over her shoulders to cover her naked breasts. Her anxiety and guilt compelled her to pause to phone her husband. His reassuring voice calmed her.

Once she was behind closed doors, Cindy cast aside her towel and her bikini bottom then rummaged through her luggage to retrieve her toy. The cylinder which was made of soft rubber was over ten inches long and two inches in diameter. Carl had given the toy to her not long after their viewing of "PARADISE: LOVE" had inspired her to confess that she had briefly dated a black man in college. He had lecherously suggested that the toy might help her cope with her loneliness whenever he was out of town. She had been offended and almost irate, but she hadn't thrown it away. Eventually she had begun using the toy as he had suggested. If Carl had discovered that she kept her new toy in her nightstand drawer, he had decided to say nothing about it.

When Cindy's hands found the pouch where she had discretely hidden her toy, she discovered that there was a greeting card tucked in with it. Fearful that some customs agent had chastised her, she nervously turned on a lamp to read. The card was from Carl. Her loving husband had written: "HOPEFULLY, YOUR TOY WILL HELP YOU COPE WITH MY ABSENCES IF YOU CANT FIND THE REAL THING.". Her husband not only knew that she still had her toy, he knew that she had packed it for their summer trip. She was uncertain how to interpret his insinuation that she might experience "the real thing." However; she was to inflamed with lust to ponder it.

Cindy was about to retreat to the privacy of the bed when the allure of the fading light of the setting sun illuminating the Mediterranean drew her to the balcony. She reasoned that their were walls between adjacent balconies to give her some privacy. The decorative steel railing would not block the view from the beach, but if she kept the lights off she would be veiled in darkness.

There was no need for preliminaries. Cindy's sex was already lubricating copiously. After giving birth to three babies, her vagina could accommodate her toy's unaccustomed bulk without much difficulty. She inserted it as deeply as possible. She inserted it so deeply that her hand lost its grip. Cindy flexed her pelvic muscles to push the ebony toy out then used her hands to push it back in. She rhythmically flexed her vagina around the toy just as she often did with Carl's penis. But it wasn't Carl's penis that she was imagining. She climaxed quickly, then again and yet again.

Fatigued by lingering jet lag and her day at the beach combined with too much wine, Cindy retreated from the balcony to the bed. She didn't remove her toy from her vagina before falling asleep. She left it inside her so that she wouldn't feel lonely in her sleep.

When Cindy awoke, her toy remained partially inside her. She could not resist the urge to masturbate again. Her orgasm was singular and less intense than the previous night. When she removed her toy, Cindy understood why. The crimson tinged fluid that flowed from her vagina revealed that she was menstruating. When she went to record the date on her calendar, she realized that she was a few days early again. In recent years it seemed as if she was always a few days early or a few days late. Her increasing irregularity was one of the reasons why she seldom had the confidence that it would be safe to yield to Carl's desire to rely on him to restrain himself rather than use condoms. Her increasing irregularity was also a depressing reminder that her biological clock was running out.

Cindy took a shower to wash away her menstrual flow. As she scrubbed her pubic hair and deep into her sex, she thought about Carl's note. Watching the movie "PARADISE: LOVE" had inspired Cindy to confess that she had once dated a black man and the dark desires that had been revived by the movie. Carl had been amazingly understanding. He hadn't judged her for her past, interracial dalliances. He had not resented her present, dark desires. He had been the perfect, loving, understanding husband. Was his note just a crude joke or a genuine offer of an indulgence?

After finishing her shower and making herself breakfast, Cindy decided that she needed to make a trip to the pharmacy. She vacillated about what to wear for the brief walk. She didn't want to risk staining her walking shorts. The prospect of staining one of the panties that Carl preferred her to wear dissuaded her from wearing any under her skirt. When she pulled on a blouse, she realized that the thin fabric made it obvious that she was not wearing a bra under it. She decided that her anonymity gave her the freedom to not worry about it.

Cindy had no difficulty finding the feminine hygiene products that she needed. She remembered that they had been right next to the empty shelves that were normally stocked with condoms. The shelves were no longer empty. The pharmacy didn't stock the snugger fitting Asian brand that she and Carl favored because the thinner latex allowed a more natural sensation. She bought a box of three regular sized Trojans rather than one of the unfamiliar European brands.

Cindy returned to the apartment where she took another, brief shower to wash her sex then inserted a tampon. She was dissuaded from going to the beach by a sudden spasm of menstrual cramps. She knew from experience that her flow was heaviest and her cramps were most severe during the first few hours of her period, so she simply wrapped a towel around herself, grabbed a book and her sunscreen, then went out on her balcony.

The knot on Cindy's towel came loose as she was reading. Her momentary panic to preserve her modesty was quickly overcome with pragmatism. The walls on either side of her balcony ensured privacy from her neighbors. She was sitting far enough back from the steel railing that people on the street and patio below could not see her. While people on the beach could see her, there was enough distance to provide an illusion of seclusion and more importantly, anonymity. Rather than rewrap her towel, Cindy applied sunscreen to her naked body. The warmth of the sun on her nude body relieved her cramps.

Although Cindy always felt an urge to hibernate in isolation when she was having her period, the blue waters of the Mediterranean beckoned to her. Her fear of another encounter which might culminate with her yielding to temptation might have compelled her to resist the allure of the water. However; she reasoned that her discomfort and embarrassment that resulted from her period would be her chaperone. She remained on her balcony until her cramping eased and the sun went down and the beach became almost deserted. She removed her tampon and took a quick shower to rinse her sex. She was pleased to see that her flow was waning. This gave Cindy the courage to venture out, but only after phoning her husband. Rather than put her bikini bottoms at risk of being stained, she simply threw on one of Carl's white tee shirts. It came to just a bit above mid thigh, so it was almost decent. Thinking about dinner, she once again took a small purse with a few hundred Euros with her.